to the opera in borrowed boots (345/365a)

centa <3

I took Henry to see Theodore sing with the opera choir at a church service today, where I had the very embarrassing situation of sitting in the seats reserved for the choir because I didn't think they would need them. Once I was there, I was stuck. I got a few dirty looks from those around me, but really I was glad to be there. In that church, everyone past the first row can't see anything, and anything past the first few rows can't really hear anything.

picture stolen from andrea's facebook

I was going to go straight to quartet rehearsal, but that was postponed, so I got to enjoy sunday early afternoon at home, relaxing (i mean, practicing) .... I was already looking forward to Figaro in the evening... on my way to rehearsal, it dawned on me that since it was sunday, it was probably starting at 6pm, not 7:30 like usual, which meant I would have to go directly to the opera, and .. hmm.. i really wasn't dressed for it, but maybe I could leave early enough to fly home, change, and get there.

Instead, our rehearsal dragged on and on, got longer and longer, we didn't stop for a dinner break like we planned. Instead, we rehearsed up until the last minute, when one of the violins drove me directly to the opera. I borrowed a pair of her nicer looking old shoes, only 2 sizes too big, so I didn't have to wear my snow boots. The opera was sold out, so we stood the whole time... the first half was ok, the singers weren't really with the orchestra the whole time and vice versa. The second half was much better, and the only thing was very entertaining. Nina watched it all without knowing what was going on, and without access to the super titles, since we can't see them from the standing spots.

Afterwards we found Centa and Caroline who were there together in honor of Centa's recent birthday) and Centa came with us to have chinese food dinner (my first real food outside of a mango and a piece of chocolate, oh healthy me) ... the bar was closed though, so no fun drinks.

We walked part of the way home listening to cake, and part of the way in mostly silence, listening to the crunch of the icy thin snow beneath the soles of other peoples' shoes.